


Couch Heroics

by musicmillennia



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), The Defenders (Marvel TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Brotp, Coffee (not the Luke Cage way), Couches, Couches Everywhere, Friendship, Gen, Jessica Is A Good Bro, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-19
Updated: 2017-10-19
Packaged: 2019-01-19 20:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12417216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musicmillennia/pseuds/musicmillennia
Summary: 5 times Matt crashes on Jessica's couch and 1 time she crashed on his.





	Couch Heroics

**1.**

"Can I stay at your place?"

Not even a "hello." Good. Jessica hates small talk.

"Why?" she asks, peering through the railings of a fire escape across the street of a hotel.

No answer.

Jessica rolls her eyes. "Look, Murdock, we might've gone through a buncha shit―"

"I don't think I can make it to my apartment."

Worry pinches Jessica's side. She grimaces at it. "Then you should be calling Claire, not me."

Matt's sigh crackles in her ear. "She already patched me up. Told me to take it easy."

Jessica snorts.

"I stopped a mugger, but now I―your place is closer."

The cheating wife throws off her shirt. Her belle bites her lip.

"I'm on a job," Jessica says.

"I can―"

"You are  _not_ sneaking through my window. Just―" Jessica huffs. "I'll be there in fifteen."

"...I'm still wearing the suit. Don't think your neighbors will respond well to me walking through their hallway."

"Then wait on the roof," Jessica snaps. After a pause, she asks, "Unless you can't get that far?"

"No, I. I think I can do that."

Must be really bad if Murdock's admitting all this. Jessica purses her lips and snaps a few quick pictures.

"Where are you?"

"Alley next to your building."

"Stay there. Crash in the dumpster or something."

Matt scoffs. Jessica hangs up, puts her camera away, and jumps.

 

Murdock's a fucking mess.

Not in his usual human disaster mess, but a bloody, broken one. 

"Couldn't reach the dumpster," he drawls, sprawled in front of the garbage.

Jessica fast-walks to him. "Thought you said Claire patched you up."

"She did."

"Doesn't look like it." Jessica offers her hand. "Come on."

She takes most of his weight and harbors him to the rusty side door. She kicks it open, trying not to listen to how ragged Matt's breathing is.

They hit the back stairs. "What the hell happened?" Matt grunts, stumbling over them. "...sorry. We're going upstairs."

"Figured," Matt mutters.

"You didn't answer my question. Three more steps, then turn left."

"Good reflexes and a lotta knives," Matt rasps, hissing as Jessica adjusts her grip. "They look worse."

With his anger issues, Jessica wouldn't be surprised. "Steps here. Lucky for you, some people in this building sleep at reasonable hours. Or they're too drunk to notice."

"Should still take precautions."

"Yeah, yeah. Alright, we're here." Jessica nudges open the door. "Turn left. We're about halfway down my hall." She glances at his suit. "Ugh, there it is."

Matt's head twitches towards her. "It's practical."

"Tell that to the ears."

"Horns."

"Whatever. Hang on."

Jessica hip-checks her door open and drags him inside. They half-stagger to the couch, Matt groaning on impact no matter how careful Jessica tries to be.

She yanks his stupid helmet off, revealing Matt's eyes squeezed shut in pain. "Drink?"

"Water," he croaks. He gives a half-smile to the ceiling. "If you've got it."

"Ha-ha, asshole."

Once the whiskey and water's poured, Jessica slides into her desk chair and props her feet up. Matt drinks slowly.

His nose wrinkles. "Is this a beer bottle?"

"That's what you get for making shit jokes." His lips quirk again. "You stayin' the night? 'Cause if you are, I need to smother you with a blanket. Clients might overlook a pretty face, but not that hideous suit."

"I was wrong.  _That_ is the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

Jessica hides a small smile in her bottle. Who knows, maybe he can hear her muscles moving or something. Weirdo. "Still don't get used to it."

His own smile gets a little bigger. "Wouldn't dream of it. Also, I―think I have to. Stay the night."

"Shit, you really got banged up."

He takes another sip. "Bourbon?"

"Best of the bottom shelf. I'm gonna finish work. You do―whatever."

"Thank you, Jessica."

"Don't mention it. Ever."

Infidelity cases never take too long to compile. Pictures are more than enough. A couple minutes of printing and wrapping up the file and Jessica's done for the night. By the time she looks up, Matt's fallen asleep, empty bottle clutched to his stomach like an ice pack. He's an open-mouth sleeper.

Quietly, Jessica plucks the blue blanket Trish gave her and covers his suit. He snuffles, maybe wakes up, but otherwise doesn't move.

"Sweet dreams, dumpster hero," she mutters, and goes to bed.

 

Matt's gone when Jessica crawls out of bed. The blanket's neatly folded, and a thank you text is in her phone.

>>Jessica Jones  
I told you not to mention it. And how did you fold the blanket?

>>Matt  
Practice

She scoffs and goes for her whiskey.

* * *

**2.**

Jessica doesn't see Matt for another month. Nothing new. Luke's been making an effort with calls and texts, but other than that, she's not in contact with the other two. (No, she doesn't get Danny's texts.)

On a balmy July night, an alley calls Jessica's name. She's tense up if she didn't recognize the voice.

"Again?" she asks flatly.

Matt's smile is soaking red. "Won't stay the night this time."

Jessica raises her eyebrow at his gaping wound. "Don't make promises you can't keep. Where's Claire?"

Matt hesitates. "Unavailable."

"Unavailable how?"

"...she's having coffee."

Jessica spreads her hands. "And that's somehow gonna stop her from not letting you die?"

"She's having coffee with Luke."

Her heart punches her bones. Even though it's not a big deal. She and Luke aren't a thing, haven't been in a while.

"Still could've knocked on the window or something. I bet she's used to that."

Matt neither confirms nor denies.

Jessica rolls her eyes. "Alright, come on. But my stitches are shit, so you brought this on yourself."

Ten minutes later, Matt says, "You're right. You're terrible at this."

Jessica stabs him with the needle. "Your own damn fault, Murdock."

He takes twenty minutes to recover before leaving. If he thanks her one more time, Jessica's gonna sock him in the jaw.

>>Jessica Jones  
This better not turn into a thing, Murdock

* * *

**3.**

One week later: "You've gotta be kidding me."

Matt gives her a weak wave. He's cuddled under her blanket again, this time on his side.

Jessica sees the blood in her rug and snaps, "That's it. You're buying me coffee tomorrow."

"Okay."

"And if you say one word about how much whiskey I put in it, I'll reopen all your stitches."

"Noted. Thanks."

"Shut up."

 

While Jessica swishes whiskey into her coffee, Matt says, "Danny's worried about you. Says he's texted you but you never answer."

Jessica grunts. "I'm not interested in a conversation about mystical shit."

Matt smiles. "That's not all he talks about."

"Could've fooled me. Besides, we're not friends."

"We saved New York together."

"And?"

Matt gestures with his mug. "Just―tell him you're okay."

Jessica sighs, but takes out her phone.

>>Jess  
I'm fine, Ironclad. Stop blowing up my phone.

It takes five seconds tops for the reply.

>>Danny Rand  
:D hi Jess! I'm glad you're okay

Oh no. Jessica feels  _warm_. She chugs more coffee.

Matt chuckles. "It's okay to have more than one friend, Jessica."

 _But_ why, Jessica doesn't ask,  _Why the hell would you wanna be friends with me?_

They walk to Matt's office.

" _Don't_ thank me," Jessica says.

"Catholic habit. Thank you, Jessica."

Jessica gives a heartfelt "ugh" and turns on her heel. She's got a case to work on.

* * *

**4.**

"Is this how Claire feels?"

Matt shrugs, then winces. "Probably."

Jessica plops her bag next to her desk. "I'm surprised she hasn't murdered you yet."

"She's a good person. Like you."

Jessica glances at him incredulously. "I'm not a good person."

"You keep letting me bleed all over your couch."

"Not all bad people like to have a stiff in their apartment." Jessica looks away after a moment. "Especially not the recently resurrected."

"I never died."

"Tell that to the mourners."

Matt's quiet after that.

* * *

**5.**

Jessica opens the door to Danny's sheepish smile.

"Heeeey, Jess," he says, like he's not supporting an unconscious vigilante. "Mind if we come in?"

She'd told Murdock not to make this a thing.

"Nice place," Danny says.

"Yeah, yeah," Jessica drawls, "it's a shit hole."

"No," Danny says in that almost annoyingly earnest way she remembers, "I like it. It's personal."

Jessica doesn't know what to say to that. "Put him on the couch. He patched up or what?"

"We, uh, couldn't exactly make it to Harlem like this. But don't worry, I know how to do this." Under his breath, Danny adds, "Mostly."

Great. "Where's that chick you run with?"

"Colleen? At the dojo."

"She know how to do this?"

"She deserves a break."

Jessica face-palms. "What is it with you idiots?"

"Hey, you're not great at asking for help either!"

Which, okay, point. "But you're supposed to be  _better_. Immortal Ironclad or whatever."

Danny gently pries Matt's helmet off. He's covered with cuts himself, including a nasty one running across his nose and cheek. Matt's lip is split.

"She's exhausted," he says.

"So am I," Jessica snaps.

Danny looks away. "I'm sorry. I just―he's in bad shape, Jess. He insisted we could stop by."

Jessica works her jaw. Then gets the first aid kit.

"I'm guessing he'll need stitches. You too."

Danny grins. "I just got some cracked ribs."

 _Just_ got―Jessica huffs. "Wrap up. I'm getting the scotch."

"Hey! Thanks, Jessica."

"Shut up."

 

Jessica's in the bathroom washing blood off her hands. Doesn't mean to eavesdrop. It's second nature at this point.

Matt groans softly. Jessica hears Danny's hurried footsteps.

"Hey," he murmurs, "It's me, Matt. We're at Jessica's place."

Matt groans again. "What happened?"

"We broke up the fighting ring, got the captives out. But you took a lot of hits. You told me we could come here. Between me and Jess, you're patched up decently. Nothing like Claire, though. Whose number you insisted I not call." He sounds disapproving. Good.

"She's sick," Matt grunts, "Flu."

Jessica's about to leave the bathroom when, of all things, there's a  _kissing noise_.

"You scared the shit out of me," Danny whispers.

"What was I supposed to do? Let that guy get knifed? He was a _kid_."

"Obviously not. I'm just saying." Danny sighs. "Sorry I didn't get to you in time."

"It's not your fault. You were helping the victims."

Another kissing noise. Part of Jessica wants to break it up, but another part wants to let them have their moment. It's important, the aftermath. Especially when someone you care about gets caught in the crossfire.

( _"Kiss me like you mean it."_ )

Jessica takes another ten seconds to dry her hands.

"You do realize Jess can hear us?" Matt drawls.

"She's our friend," Danny says, and he sounds so sincere it almost hurts. (It does.) "I don't mind."

Another kissing noise. Jessica heads for the liquor cabinet.

 

>>Luke  
Why did I get a photo of you with Danny & Matt getting coffee?

>>Jessica  
I knew the little bastard was up to something

>>Luke  
Why wasn't I invited?

>>Jessica  
Pretty sure they wouldn't be interested in your coffee

>>Luke  
Point. But next time, I expect and invite

>>Jessica  
There won't be a next time

>>Luke  
Sure, Jones. Sure.

* * *

**+1.**

Everything's blurry, yet Jessica knows she's not drunk. She recognizes Luke's body, the feel of his arms as he lifts her. She tries to push him away. Nothing moves.

"Tell Claire to meet us at Matt's," he orders. Danny says something, but he sounds like he's across the street. "You're gonna be okay, Jess. We'll get you somewhere safe."

Why can't she move?

_"Don't move, Jessica. I want to look at you."_

No, no, no―

"Jess, you just got hit, okay?"

_"Jessica, darling, stay there a moment. That dress becomes you so well."_

A whine tears itself from Jessica's throat. Darkness yanks her under.

 

A door's thrown open. "In here."

Murdock?

"Oh, shit!" someone else cries. Vaguely familiar.

"Foggy," Matt says, "get the first aid. Did you call Claire?"

"Yeah," Danny replies. Cold leather meets Jessica's head. "She's on her way."

"She was hit hard," Luke says, "Definitely got a concussion."

All American accents. Jessica tries to move. Her hand goes to her head.

 _Thank God, thank God, thank God_.

"Take it easy," Luke murmurs, breath warm on her face, "We're gettin' you some ice. You only got a couple other cuts."

Jessica's heavy tongue spits out a hoarse "Drink."

"You're gettin' water."

Ugh.

The water's good, though. Ice is even better.

A few minutes later, Matt murmurs that Claire's coming up the stairs. His small laugh sounds relieved when Jessica calls him weird.

"What else can I do?" Foggy Nelson demands when Claire bursts in.

"Right now," Claire replies, "You can hold her head."

Jessica groans. She'd rather have Luke do that. Hopes that part didn't come out.

Smooth, uncalloused hands lift her head. She hisses.

"Cut's superficial," Claire reports after some painful pokes, "But I'm guessing it'll bruise like a son of a bitch."

Peachy.

"Wake her up in two hours. But all in all, I'd say she'll be fine. Danny, on the other hand," oh, here it comes, "Sit your ass down."

There's an obedient rustle. Jess would like to pass out now.

* * *

Jessica faintly recalls waking up a few times. She knows Luke had carried her to Matt's bed on Matt's insistence, 'cause that billboard still sucks ass.

Headache's only a little (lot) worse than a hangover. Jessica rubs her eyes and slides off the bed.

"Do you have  _silk sheets_?" she grumbles.

"Cotton feels like sandpaper," Matt replies from across the apartment.

"She's awake?" Danny asks.

Jessica trudges into the living room. "What are you still doing here?"

"We were worried about you," Luke says.

Jessica peers at him. "I've had a lot worse."

"Still," Danny says.

"Plus," Matt adds, "I owe you for all the blood I got on your couch."

Jessica snorts. "You better have whiskey."

Matt holds up a bottle.

She takes it. Hesitates. "You... _might_ be one."

"One what?"

By his smile, he knows exactly what she means. Jessica takes a long chug, mutters a thanks for the alcohol.

"Don't mention it," Matt says, "Ever."

Jessica might be smiling.

**Author's Note:**

> idk you guys I just really love platonic Defenders


End file.
